Landon spun on the man with such speed that he stumbled back in surprise.
“Why don’t you go find your wife, Travers?” he hissed, low and treacherous.
Clearly, she wasn’t the only one who saw the dangerous glint in his stare for Travers immediately raised his palms in defeat and slunk off into the crowd.
The other men backed aside as Landon caught her elbow and guided her away. He nodded his farewells as he pulled her toward the dance floor.
She expected him to take her to the floor and fulfill his lie that she was promised to him for the dance, but instead he passed the floor. Discreet in the way he was dragging her, he hauled her out of the ballroom entirely. Down a long hallway, past room after room until the hum of voices and music was faint. Finally, he flung open a door and hustled her inside.
As soon as the door closed, he released her elbow and began to search the room to ensure they were alone.
“Landon-” she began, but he held up a hand to silence her as he peeked behind the curtains and checked behind the furniture. When he seemed satisfied that they would not be heard, he turned on her.
If she had thought the fire in her eyes intense when he first approached her, she was wrong. Now it was out of control. Now she was burned and branded even though he was at least five paces away from her.
“What are you wearing?” he barked out.
She folded her arms beneath her breasts, perfectly aware that the action lifted them. By the way his gaze darted down, he didn’t miss that fact.
“A gown. They’re all the rage, you know,” she quipped even though her heart was racing. She had definitely gone too far.
“Is it a gown? Because it looks more like a whore’s favorite negligee,” he said, coming across the room in the same lightening fashion that he’d turned on Travers earlier. One moment he was at a safe distance, the next he was right in front of her.
“I mean, let’s examine this ‘gown’ a bit closer, shall we?” he asked, slipping a hand around her waist and dragging her nearer.
As she struggled against his imprisoning hand, with the other he traced the low neckline. His finger bobbed over her exposed cleavage, dipping between her breasts, then back over the other side. She sucked in her breath as shots of pure pleasure crested in the wake of his touch.
“If I tug just so,” he said, and the anger was leaving his voice, replaced by breathless desire. He tugged and her nipple popped over the lace of her gown. “Yes, so I thought.”
He circled the bud with his thumb and watched as it hardened beneath his touch.
“Why would you wear this for other men, Juliana?” he asked, his voice hoarse as he pulled to reveal her other breast.
Juliana shut her eyes, unable to resist the pleasure of his touch. She clawed at his jacket, clinging to him as her knees began to go out from under her. He stopped, his thumb hovering over her.
“Answer me.”
Her eyes came open, but she didn’t speak.
He stared at her. “Were you inviting them to do what I’m doing now?” he asked. “Putting yourself on display to advertise that your body is available to the highest bidder?”
She winced at the accusation in his stare and words. “Why would you care, Landon?”
He stiffened, though his thumb returned to its torture, swirling from nipple to nipple with intent. “How can you ask me that?”
She tried to find the strength to break away from him, but found it impossible. Especially since he was guiding her back toward the nearest settee. He sat, taking her with him until she lay across his lap, both breasts exposed. Now that he no longer had to support her, he used his other hand to inch her skirt up. His fingers stroked her calf, cupped her knee.
She caught her breath, trying to maintain focus when his hand was now gliding up the outside of her thigh.
“You want to make public my affair with you,” she gasped as his fingers moved to the inner curve of her thigh, so close to the heat between her legs. “So I don’t know how you can pretend to care if I behave like the whore you want everyone to see me as. I would think you’d count it as a triumph to see me brought so low.”
His fingers froze before he stroked her curls aside and touched her where she ached most. Arching, she whimpered her disappointment.
Landon stared at her, expression unreadable. “What you do when our bargain is over…” he hesitated and a flash of pain entered his eyes before he blinked it away. “Is your affair. But while we are involved, you will not make yourself available to any other man.”
She met his eyes evenly, hoping she appeared brave because she certainly didn’t feel it. But she had to push. Had to make sure Landon understood that she might give in to his demands, but that she would not be controlled. Used.
“Why not, Landon?”
His lips thinned. “Because you are mine.”
Her eyes widened at that shocking admission, but before she could reply, his mouth came down, meeting hers for the first time in five years.
* * *
Landon had been avoiding kissing Juliana since she returned to his life. And now he knew why. As his lips brushed hers, his entire body caught fire. He felt her touch everywhere, it flowed from the point of contact, washing over him like a balm.
Her lips parted and he delved his tongue between them, tasting her. God, she tasted the same. Sweet. Almost innocent despite the experiences that had intervened. But she met his invasion with anything but naive confusion. She stroked his tongue with her own, sucked gently and he was glad to be sitting, for he knew he would have gone down on his knees with desire.
Her hands moved up to tread through his hair and she let out a soft whimper of pleasure. Of relief that mirrored his own so perfectly. At least he could take some solace in knowing that she had longed for this moment as much as he had… that kissing him affected her with the same intensity as it did him.
But he was still undone. And he still felt like a green boy as he tilted her face with one hand and continued to taste her like a thirsty man who had found his oasis in the desert. Only he knew that ultimately, Juliana was also nothing more than a mirage. Soon she would be gone.
That thought should have cooled his ardor, but it only made him more desperate. His fingers clenched against her thigh, stroking her as he speared his tongue deeper, thrusting and mating with her mouth, as he would soon do with her body.
Juliana’s moans grew louder, more insistent as he returned his fingers to her wet heat. He thrust one finger inside her sheath, but he never broke the contact of his mouth against hers. It was like he couldn’t. Now that he had tasted her lips again, he never wanted to stop. He wanted to kiss her forever, let the rest of the world be damned.
And if that was what he wanted, she didn’t seem opposed to the idea. Her hands traveled away from his neck, gliding down his chest until she brushed his cock through his trousers, working at the buttons of his waist to free him.
Emotions washed over Landon, tangled and complicated as they continued to kiss with desperate abandon. His desire made him so urgent to join with her that he felt like his cock would explode before she took him into her waiting body. But there was anger there, too, under the surface, simmering as he tried to forget what she had done to him all those years ago.
And underneath it all, in a place he refused to contemplate overly long… he felt afraid. Afraid of her. Afraid of this touch. Afraid of losing her again. Last time had hurt too much. If it happened again… Landon couldn’t think about it. It would break him.
Juliana shifted on his lap, moving to straddle him, and their lips broke contact. Landon stared up at her as she adjusted her tangled skirt, spread her legs just a fraction and slowly took him into her body. Inch by inch she enveloped him in wet, welcoming heat and he couldn’t hold back a low moan of pleasure that erased his other tangled thoughts.
When he was fully inside her, his cock touching the very head of her womb and her body clenching around him, she stopped. He looked up at her, sear
ching her face. When she moved, the firelight sparkled off her eyes and he realized they were full of tears.
Landon tensed. “Are you crying?”
She smiled as the tears she’d been fighting began to fall. “Just kiss me, Landon. Please keep kissing me.”
For a moment, he only stared. What did her tears mean? She could be manipulating him…or they could be real. A true reflection of her heartache and loneliness during the time they were apart. Did it matter?
All that mattered was that they were together tonight. They had these moments. And he knew, unlike anything else, that what they were sharing during these moments was true.
He threaded his fingers at the nape of her neck and drew her down for another searing kiss. He lifted his hips at the same time and any thoughts he might have had of a slow and easy coupling vanished. The kiss was hot, claiming, and his body jolted in a reflection of that joining. He nearly lifted her from the settee with every thrust and she fought to keep up, to use her position above him to set the rhythm.
He wouldn’t have it. Making love became a battle of the wits and he won…again. He cupped her rear end with both hands, continuing to both kiss and thrust into her. She gasped as he pushed off the settee and turned, then lowered her back on the cushions.
He drove into her, merciless in his thrusts, cupping her flush against him and keeping her from arching her hips. He realized through the fog of his desire that he was taking her. In every sense of the word. He was in control. He was the master of her pleasure.
She whimpered as she strove for her orgasm, reaching for the one thing he denied her. To what end, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps because this was the only place where he still held power over her. Perhaps as some tiny revenge for all the years of pleasure she had withheld from him.
But perhaps he kept her release from her because once she shuddered beneath him, he wouldn’t be able to hold back his own pleasure. And then the moment would be over.
“Landon?” she whispered, her hands curling around his shoulders, her back arching with need. “Please.”
He slowed his movements at her quiet request and the room grew very still, very quiet. He was fighting with what he needed versus what she asked him to give. And that battle was about more than just release and pleasure. It was about the past. About the future. About old wounds.
Perhaps she recognized that. She opened her eyes and held his stare, never wavering even as he continued to swivel his hips and take her. Then she leaned up and brushed her lips against his. So soft. So… loving. Landon’s eyes fluttered shut as he let out a low sigh of pleasure at that simple touch. This is what he had been lacking for five years.
His eyes came back open, holding her stare with intense focus. He wanted to see her come. He wanted to watch her face as she crested. Pushing a hand between them, spread the lips of her sex. She arched against his hand, against his cock. His thumb ground down on her clit and she exploded, her face taut with desire, her eyes glazed with need.
Her scream echoed in the room, her body clenched so tight around him that it milked him out of control. Landon let out an expletive before he withdrew and his seed spurted from his cock.
Panting, Landon braced one hand on the back of the settee as he watched Juliana. Her eyes closed and she panted, her chest flushed from exertion and pleasure. He had made her look so satisfied, a fact he was ridiculously proud of.
But what he wasn’t proud of, as he looked around him and came to the complete and shocking realization of where they were, was the utter impropriety of what they were doing. This was a parlor in the Cresterton home. The door was unlocked. Not fifty feet away, a ballroom full of people danced…and any one of them could have walked in and found them making love with abandon, especially if Juliana’s lusty moans and screams carried down the hall.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known where they were. Yet he had plunged all the deeper into her body, reached for his pleasure and given her hers with all the more purpose.
Lord Hawkins, respected gentleman had been pushed aside, replaced by Landon Hawkins, well-hidden rake. Juliana had changed him, just as she had been changing him for five years.
And he wondered, as he made some attempt to collect himself…what did that mean? For her. For him. For the foggy future that was getting harder and harder to imagine without Juliana in it.
Chapter Six
There had been more than mere anger, more than revenge, more than even lust in Landon’s touch in the parlor at the Cresterton ball. His emotions had been deeper, despite how hard he fought to stay in control. In some small way, Juliana had won this battle… though she knew the war was far from over. Landon still held deep and deserved reservations when it came to her.
And Evelyn was still missing.
Juliana’s smile fell as Landon’s carriage rocked to a stop at his townhouse. Evelyn. In the ballroom, she had not been able to talk to Landon alone before he hauled her away. And she certainly hadn’t the time to inquire after her sister as he made love to her.
She looked over to find Landon staring at her. And it wasn’t a stare of lust… though the desire that hummed between them was still there, just muted for the time being. No, there was something else to his stare. Worry. Pain.
Her heart lodged in her throat.
“Landon?” she whispered. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He started, as if he was unaware he was showing his emotions so clearly. The carriage door creaked open before he could reply. Landon stepped from the vehicle and offered her assistance. Juliana was surprised that her own hand trembled when she reached out.
“Landon?” she pressed.
He looked down at her with a sigh, then tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. She stared at the joining of their arms. Like they were still married. Like he was her protector.
It thrilled and frightened her at once.
“Come inside,” he said softly. “We will talk there.”
She nodded and forced her reluctant feet to move. More and more, she realized he was loath to share whatever news he had. And that meant things were worse than she feared. Worse, perhaps, than her nightmares.
Blindly, she followed Landon’s lead into the house, trusting him to keep her upright, to keep her from stumbling.
Where was Evelyn? Could she be hurt…perhaps…perhaps…dead?
No. No, that wasn’t possible. Landon never would have made love to her if her sister had been injured or worse. He would have told her, wouldn’t have let her go one without knowing the truth. She trusted that fact as much as she trusted he would never lift a hand to her.
“Come,” Landon said softly. “Sit down.”
Juliana shook her head, clearing her thoughts away and realized, with a start, that she had been taken to Landon’s bedroom. He motioned to the settee by the fire and her gaze darted to him. This was where she had pleasured herself for his stare just a few nights before.
From the way his jaw clenched, he recalled that night, as well. Somehow she doubted that would be the result of tonight, but she sat down regardless.
“You have heard something,” she whispered past suddenly dry lips.
He nodded once, wordlessly.
She shivered. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
Raking a hand through his hair, he paced to the fire and stared down at the flames. “I was distracted,” he said, then peeked at her over his shoulder. “And I did not know how to say it. I should have told you earlier…for that, I apologize.”
She clenched her hands together in front of her chest, willing herself to stop trembling. Willing herself to speak.
“What-what do you know? Just say it and let me hear the worst.”
He looked at her for a moment, his eyes burning her. Then he sat down beside her and reached for her hand. She flinched when he touched her, but couldn’t help but stare at their now-intertwined fingers. What was this comfort he offered? What did it mean?
“I know who has your sister,” he
said softly.
Her stomach clenched and the rush of blood that roared to her ears was deafening. She stared at him, tears stinging her eyes. She wanted to turn away, run away and not hear whatever he had to say.
But she couldn’t. There was no avoiding this. She was the only one who could help her sister.
“Who?” she whispered.
“It’s Raphael Sinclair,” he said, tilting his head as he searched her face.
“Sin?” she murmured, swallowing hard past the name. Rafe Sinclair, one of her father’s gambling cronies, though he was a latecomer to the games. Young and handsome, he also had one of the worst reputations in London. He had earned the nickname Sin with his debauched, erotic ways and a string of well-pleasured mistresses.
And now he had her sister. Innocent, sweet Evelyn. A man like Sin would take her regardless of her lack of experience. Why else would he want her? It was unbearable.
“Evelyn,” she sobbed before she leaned over the settee arm and let her long suppressed tears finally fall at will.
It took her a moment to realize that Landon had gathered her in his arms. He pulled her against his chest, smoothing her hair as he whispered quiet, incoherent endearments and comforts against her hair.
She clenched her hand in a fist against his chest and let him hold her. What did this new level of vulnerability matter? Clearly Landon knew he held all the cards. He knew how much she needed him, not just when they came together in body, but to help her.
“It will be well, Juliana,” he whispered as he kissed the corner of her eye, taking her tears with his lips. “We will find her.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she wailed. “There is only one thing a man like Sin could want from Evelyn. And they have been alone long enough that he has surely received it, whether by seduction or force. She is ruined. After everything I did, everything I sacrificed to keep her from this fate, it was all for nothing.”
“Juliana,” he whispered.
But she couldn’t stem the flow of words. “I did it all for nothing, Landon. I did it all for nothing. I lost everything and in the end, my sister was still taken.”
The Sweetest Sin Page 7